The Sign of Four Founders
by SCP-blank
Summary: Deep in the castle of Hogwarts, lies a thing so powerful, the four founders had to chain it and hide it there. There is a secret in the school. But who will solve the mystery? Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had knew each other before. They both were friends at Hogwarts. Just what happened that made them forget? HP xover with BBC Sherlock. No pairings. Events during 1978-1985.


This occurs after Harry's parents graduate and before Harry starts Hogwarts. I'm undecided about whether to continue this or not.

What is definite, though, I will not write about Watson's and Sherlock's time as magicless detectives.

Also, there will be **no pairings**. At the time of the story they're just school children, far more interested in solving the mystery of the founders.

* * *

**1978, September. HSWW**

_Draco dormiens nuncam titilandus._

Or, in other words, do not tickle the sleeping dragon.

The motto of his new school immediately had gotten Sherlock's attention. He had learned Latin as a young boy (his tutors required that of him and he, instead of arguing applied himself so much that his abilities eventually surpassed theirs) so he was sure his translation was correct. And since it was correct, it undoubtedly meant something.

Of course, as much as Sherlock could deduct about this world from knowing it for few months, wizards were not particularly logical people, they were bordering on insane (in most cases, actually) and the motto could simply be a jumble of words. But he would still try to figure it out.

You see, Sherlock Holmes was a muggleborn. Moreover, he was sorted into Slytherin. The Hat debated whether to put him there or in Ravenclaw but eventually decided that he was far more cunning than bookish and completely disinterested in competing with others for best grades. This was not particularly advisable at the time of war.

However, since he didn't talk about himself and had an intense stare, the Slytherins left him alone. His unusual name made them think he was at least a Halfblood.

Sherlock, who had already learned about the silly prejudices, didn't care at all what they thought about him if they left him alone. And he didn't particularly care about the current war either. He felt rather indifferent to it and thought that as long as the 'bad guys' (Sherlock didn't have enough data to conclude if they were the bad guys or not) did not damage the normal world too much, it did not affect him in any way.

It was not the muggle world he cared about, though. It was the technology and scientific discoveries that made him care.

What he cared about his new predicament, was learning as much about magical world as he could and, of course, about figuring out_ what in hell the motto meant._

* * *

**1979, HSWW**

John Watson, a Griffindor Prefect was again left to watch over firsties. It annoyed him to no end that other prefects thought they could order him around.

Moreover, he was annoyed that among that mass of Griffindor firsties were Hestia's cousin Gwenog. And he hated Hestia.

Well, it didn't start as hate, per se. It was because last year (during their fourth year) he incidentally stood her up on their date. But it wasn't his fault! How was he, John, to explain that he left madam Pudifoot's (a horrible cafe that could make any male and even some females want to hurl) because his eyes had caught that Slytherin firstie walking around without a thought that he was disobeying the rules.

Of course, John had to investigate (the Slytherin could have been up to something illegal!) so he went out and caught up with the Slytherin recluse. Holmes (he thought was the boys name) stopped and looked at him inquiringly his gaze impassive.

John was left there staring at him like a fool, unable to form the proper words.

"You're not supposed to be here." He finally said ratehr meekly and it made the Slytherin snort.

"So?" He asked indifferently. John remembered that at the time he was angry at Sherlock's cheek and they had insulted each other continuously but later (two days late, in fact) when John was hiding from Hestia's wrath that he bumped into Sherlock who was once again snooping around, carrying what seemed to be a simple muggle magnifying glass and a blank sheet of paper.

"Magic doesn't leave traces that could be seen through magnifying glass, you know." John said and Sherlock looked up, sourly. John was sure he would say that it was a charmed magnifying glass and he was an idiot not to notice it but the Slytherin kept silent before he replied through he teeth.

"Do you know about ways to find magical... signatures?" John startled. He looked at the boy confused but then he had a thought.

"You're muggle raised." John said, quietly. He, himself was raised as a muggle till he was nine years old. Then his mother had died and his wizard father (the one who left mother for a younger woman, a younger witch) had taken him in.

Sherlock looked at him through narrowed eyes and after a while nodded.

"Skilled wizards are able to feel magic, but that's only the wizards of Dumbledore's caliber. Normal people can find magical places by using divination." John said, changing the subject, and watched as Sherlock scowled.

"I'm far from fool, Watson. Divination is rubbish, there's no way it is useful."

"I don't mean divination as reading tea leaves or analysing dreams, I mean_ real_ divination." John frowned at Sherlock (he hated when people looked down on his favorite subject) and looked around for an empty classroom.

"Here. This will do." They came in one classroom and John sat himself on a table looking through the stained window.

"There's abacomancy but it's quite messy and the sand gets everywhere, capnomancy but the smoke is not the stealthiest of things to use if you want no one to know about your snooping. Then there's ceroscopy but I hate wax, it gets everywhere, and, of course hakata, which requires a set of animal bones." John stopped and looked at the unusually silent Sherlock.

The first year was staring at him quite scarily, as if evaluating him.

"You know a lot about divination." He stated. "So you will help me, won't you?"

"With the magical signatures?" John wanted to clear it up. He sounded less than enthusiastic as the idea of tutoring a sceptic like Holmes on such a subject like divination didn't have much appeal.

"With the clues the founders left about their secret. Something they hid to protect others."

On the other hand... Now the idea sounded much more interesting.


End file.
